


Bowties and Supernovas

by Opalgirl



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-26
Updated: 2010-05-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 08:43:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalgirl/pseuds/Opalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George Cooper has an odd midnight visitor, who travels by blue box.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bowties and Supernovas

**Author's Note:**

> I decided two things while watching S5 of Doctor Who:
> 
> a: This show crosses over with EVERYTHING.  
> b: If anybody knew the Doctor, it would have to be George.
> 
> This bit of crack came out of it.

George blinked, as he stood looking over the wall to the cove. There was plenty enough for him to do, now (thinking of the piles of papers and codes and reports all awaiting his attention made him sigh) and it wasn’t as if he slept much most nights, anyway. Not with Alanna and Alan both at war and Aly gone. He spent some time most nights, with the keep to himself, up here on the wall, watching.

 

When he heard a roar overhead, he looked up to see a blue rectangular shape tumbling rapidly from the sky. The odd box soared over the keep, past the outer walls, and finally hit the ground at the cove, close to the water’s edge. George shook his head and tried not to laugh.

 

“Doctor!” he shouted, as he approached the glowing box. “I told ye about landing in my cove unannounced!”

 

A door swung open, and a disheveled, rather odd man stumbled out. “Sorry, sorry!” he cried, stumbling over the rocks, his hair falling into his face. “So sorry!” He coordinated his flailing limbs and straightened up. “Nasty supernova threw her off course…. Oh. George!” The man’s face split into a slightly maniacal grin. “Long time no see. Lovely cove you’ve got here, as always.”

 

“Of course, Doctor. Now, you’d know better than to surprise an old spy, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Yes, yes, yes. Terribly sorry.” The man tugged at his jacket and turned back toward his box. “ _Amy!_ Pond, _do_ keep up! Women,” he added, glancing at George. “Forever taking, well, forever.”

 

“Oh, sod you!” cried a feminine voice, in reply. “Keep up! I’ll show _you_ keep up! Can I even breathe out there?”

 

A tall redheaded woman staggered out of the box and onto the rocks of the cove, glaring at the Doctor. “Steered it right into a supernova, you did.” She poked him as she spoke and then folded her arms across her chest.

 

“Not on purpose. Besides that, Pond, we have company.”

 

“She’s new, Doctor. Not like the last one that thought she was takin’ off with my Aly, I hope.”

 

“No… Err. Yes. No. I don’t know!” The Doctor paused. “Oh. Yes. _That_. Pond here will not attempt to run off with your children. I promise.”

 

In fact, the woman looked as if she was scarcely older than Aly; a bit of a frightening thought. “You look different than you did when I last saw you, Doctor.”

 

“New body.” The Doctor shrugged. “And how rude of me—Amy, this is Baron George Cooper of Pirate’s Swoop, of the realm of Tortall. George, this fine young lady is my friend, Amy Pond.”

 

Amy blinked and bobbed her head. “Baron.”

 

George smiled. “The honor is mine, Mistress Amy.”

 

“Don’t get any ideas, Amy—he’s married, and his wife carries a sword,” the Doctor warned, and earned a glare from the young woman.

 

“Rory,” she replied, and said no more.

 

“Rory has a sword? _Where?_ ”

 

Amy thumped the odd man George knew only as the Doctor squarely on the shoulder. “No. I’m engaged, remember? To _Rory_.”

 

The Doctor frowned. “It’s not something one forgets when _someone_ keeps leaving bridal magazines on the console—and they certainly aren’t _mine_...”

 

Amy snorted. “Oh, shut it. Is there something the matter with the ship?”

 

“She’s fine. Which means that we had best get back to setting a course. You wanted to see the World’s Fair, and I could use the trip, myself. George.” The Doctor’s attention shifted, abruptly. “I met one of your ancestors last month—charming girl, really, when she wasn’t trying to whack me with a stick. Not anything like you, though.”

 

“My mother always said I was different. Hopefully she didn’t hit you too hard?”

 

“Pfft. Of course not. Your cab, Miss Pond?” The Doctor bowed, an exaggerated motion, and gestured his young friend inside the box.

 

“I’ll make the tea,” she said, smiling, “because you boiled water and forgot the tea, the other day.” With a wave, she disappeared.

 

“Oi! Pond, that’s not fair!” the Doctor shouted after her, and then turned away. “George.”

 

“Doctor. Next time you’re going to pay a visit, mayhap make it not in the middle of the night? My son would like to meet you.”

 

“I’ll try. Your son, hmm?” The Doctor waggled his eyebrows. “We’ll see, George Cooper. We’ll see.”

 

 


End file.
